A Brother's Love
by Piru-tan
Summary: Conrad and Yuuri's developing romance through Shouri's eyes.


**Title:** A Brother's Love  
**Fandom:** _Kyou Kara Maou_  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Conrad/Yuuri, Shouri. Maybe vaguely Conrad/Shouri if you choose to interpret it that way. Just don't choose to see this as Shibuyacest because it's not.  
**Dedication:** Peroxidepest17 I'm sorry that you're sick, and that the Yuuram fans have been giving you a hard time. ;; ♥ Also, I suppose Kaluin because her request for Conrad/Shouri birthday fic really got the wheels turning. And Christine, because I am ecstatic that I know someone IRL who I can fangirl ConYuu with.  
**Prompt:** Conrad/Shouri, believe it or not. Several people mentioned that they like the pairing and it was while I was in the process of trying to figure out what could make their relationship work that the idea for this fic occurred to me. So, yeah. I still haven't figured out what makes Conrad/Shouri work, so, umm, in the meantime, enjoy some ConYuu goodness instead.  
**Description:** Conrad and Yuuri's developing romance through Shouri's eyes.  
**Rating:** PG for light shounen-ai and one mild cuss word.  
**Word Count:** 2,027.  
**Status:** Complete. Not that I like it much.  
**Other Notes:** Yeah, I really don't like it. Most of this was written in an extreme rush to satisfy the rabid plotbunnies so that I would be able to focus on other things. Like homework. Anyway, I've never had the patience for careful edits once I feel like I'm done with something, so you'll just have to endure. :x This fic features more exploration of present-tense writing -- basically, the same style as my other ConYuu fic. This one is slightly less canon-verse, however. Mainly, it assumes that Conrad and Yuuri are in the process of developing an actual romantic relationship (so, in other words, if you're not a ConYuu shipper, don't read?). The setting is pretty open and the context of it is left largely up to the reader. It is probably most logically placed after the 60s of the series, however. Only vague spoilers; basically, you just need to know about Shouri (late 50s/early 60s). And yes, Shouri is an aggravatingly difficult character to write, but. I suppose I'm babbling now.

* * *

It begins with an exchange of silent looks, of fleeting glances.

They most likely go undetected by the untrained eye. After all, the differences are very subtle, very easy to miss. It's a slight softening of the corners of the eyes, a sudden relaxing of tensed brows, a gentle tenderness that swiftly suffuses the irises for one ephemeral instant before disappearing again. It's a slight tug at the corners of the lips, the faintest hint of a smile that whispers of intimate secrets shared. It's the transmission of a Thought, of unspoken words that are nonetheless communicated perfectly clearly with a glimpse of the eyes. They say, "I trust you." "I believe in you." "I need you." "I'm right beside you." And, "Thank you for being here with me."

But Shouri's been preparing his entire life to discern the slight changes in his little brother's face, and so the covert exchanges do not fail to garner his attention. Not that he does anything to reveal his suspicions, of course; it isn't his business to pry or get involved in, especially when doing so could affect Yuuri's happiness. At any rate, everything's still innocent at best.

The next stage consists of casual touches.

Nothing inappropriate, of course—and again, the motions are virtually inconspicuous. They aren't so much surprising or out-of-place gestures as they are hands that linger but a second longer than they should according to the laws of etiquette and propriety, feather-light impressions on skin accompanied by emotions that travel beyond the outer shell. They are pats on the back, fingers lightly brushing hair, accidental entanglement of feet underneath the dinner table, falling asleep on the other's shoulder on the bus home, and pausing to touch forehead to forehead before a baseball game. They are tender embraces between friends that nonetheless hold a deeper meaning.

Shouri can readily predict where this is going. Without a doubt, Conrad fits the profile of the platonic love interest to a 'T'. He represents the "pure" kind of love, which often has but a bittersweet ending.

Shouri would know. After all, he's played this BL game before.

When he observes Conrad mouthing words to Yuuri on the subway with a slightly mischievous smirk, he makes a mental note that the couple has apparently progressed to stage three. All of a sudden, there's actual concrete words in the air—mouthed or whispered, still veiled in layers of secrecy, but they're there.

Shouri's ears perk up instinctively. He quickly learns that nothing indecent is being said. They're the virtuous murmurs and sweet-nothings of a young couple that's still but wetting their feet in the rivulet of romance. They've barely even begun to explore the boundaries in favor of sticking with what's familiar, safe, and taking the new things one day at a time.

Still, one could say that he feels, well, threatened by Conrad's presence and his strong bond with the young Maou. He can't really explain it well; for all intents and purposes, it's an entirely irrational sentiment.

Shouri supposes that he's really just afraid that his younger brother doesn't really know what he's getting himself into. Yuuri is still a boy, after all, and one largely inexperienced in love. And Shouri, like any older brother, has a protective side that kicks in whenever he identifies a potential source of overwhelming pain for his younger sibling.

He can't help flinching, then, when, after offering to help his parents with the dishes—household chores take considerably longer now that there are often as many as eight mouths to feed and bodies to wash and clothe rather than the usual four, and everybody's had to increase their share of the workload in some fashion—he overhears Hamano Jennifer, in her usual perky and overly eager way, whispering to her husband that she had seen Conrad and Yuuri holding hands on their casual stroll through the park together earlier that afternoon. While Shouma reprimands her for not being more concerned about the ramifications with regards to their son's engagement, Shouri's only coherent thought is that stage five was breached without his being present to document it.

Of course, it's the things we _don't_ see that haunt us the most, and that night, Shouri can't sleep for the mental image of Conrad and Yuuri holding hands like an ordinary high school couple. What bothers him the most is that the image actually works well, like two singular puzzle pieces harmoniously fitting together. The newfound physical connection is simply a symbol that mirrors the affinity that has already been under development.

It's obvious that the two draw strength from each other's presence—Yuuri to become the man and the Maou he wants to be, and Conrad to become—well, Shouri isn't exactly sure. To become, what—even more perfect, perhaps?

That's probably the most aggravating thing of all, Shouri is forced to admit to himself; in his head, it's so _easy_ to pronounce Conrad a pervert, a lecherous old man, and to therefore condemn him for all sorts of crimes and sins, whether or not they have already actually been committed. But facing the reality is different. He's studied people long enough to know that it's nigh impossible to hide any ill intentions behind a smile as gentle as Conrad's.

It isn't fair, really. Not only is his face handsome enough to attract members of both sexes, but his body, lean and toned, makes all of Shouri's clothing look like it was tailor-made for him whenever Conrad wears it. His presence is intrepid, commanding, and fiercely charismatic. His physical prowess is unrivaled, his sword-arm steady and ever battle-ready, and even though the stalwart soldier cannot employ the powers of Maryoku, the half-human blood running through his veins does not prevent him from being considered one of the greatest Mazoku warriors of all time.

It's really no surprise, then, that Yuuri has become completely enamored with this man.

Yet as much time as he spends pondering the subtle changes in his brother's expression, Shouri still finds himself entirely unprepared for the implications when he accidentally witnesses Conrad and Yuuri stealing a late-night kiss.

The detection is entirely unintentional. Shouri's secluded himself in his room, minding his own business, as usual, when he gets up on impulse to get a drink of water. He's taken but a step out into the hallway when he sees Conrad emerge from the bathroom at the other end of the corridor. It's obvious that he's just taken a shower by the way his hair is still wet. Shouri's about to say something about the way the chocolate-brown strands are drip-drip-dripping onto _his_ brand-new shirt, his left eye twitching compulsively at the sight, when he discerns Yuuri coming up the stairs. The latter is panting, having narrowly escaped an impending battle downstairs, where a querulous Wolfram is seeking to pick a fight with just about anyone who will spare him a moment's attention.

The two exchange a Look, and Shouri's about to turn around, knowing full well when he is witnessing something that is meant to be private. At the same time, however, he's too curious, too fascinated, and as much as he wills himself to, he cannot bear to close the door for fear of missing what might happen next.

Before he knows it, Yuuri's backed up against the wall, and he and Conrad are lip-locked, embracing so tightly that it seems as though they might melt into one another at any moment. Their eyes are lidded, Yuuri grasping Conrad's shirt while Conrad traces the contours of Yuuri's face with one hand. Conrad's wet locks are still drip-drip-dripping onto the collared shirt, the rippling of muscles visible where the wet fabric clings to the skin underneath, causing the scene to appear far more indecent than it truly is.

Shouri is too horrified to turn away, so he begs and pleads with his brain to reject the disturbing images of his younger brother quite possibly having his tongue inside another _man_'s mouth, but that doesn't stop it from happening. The action is taking place several yards away, but despite the darkness in the hallway, his sharp eyes can make out every detail as though it were occurring right in front of him.

For the first time, Shouri realizes that perhaps he doesn't quite want to know _everything_, after all.

Yuuri clings to Conrad for a few seconds while the latter pulls away, and though his cheeks are tinged with a faint blush, he's _smiling_, so that Shouri can't even pretend like his brother was the unwilling victim of this encounter. Abruptly, the thought occurs to him that his little brother has grown up without him ever knowing it.

He takes care to shut the door quietly so that the couple remains unaware of the fact that they were seen. But shutting the door won't shut out the memories—stop the images from replaying over and over in his mind.

Now he knows what Pandora must have felt like after she opened the box and realized what effect doing so had had.

But as observant as Shouri might be, Conrad has always been the most perceptive of them all, and the latter doesn't fail to swiftly detect the change in Shouri's demeanor. Suddenly, the calm, aloof air is replaced by one of irritability; his stoic voice now has a caustic edge to it. Conrad's not the one to shy away from a confrontation, either, and he decides to take the first opportunity he finds to pay Shouri a visit when the elder Shibuya brother is alone in his room.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to enter," Shouri grumbles, but he can no longer manage the half-arrogant, half-disinterested tone of voice that previously backed up his threats.

Conrad simply replies, "You didn't."

He closes the door behind him with a soft _click_ but remains standing in front of it, as though barring any attempt at escape.

"Something's bothering you, Shouri." It's a statement, not a question.

Shouri turns back to his computer, directing his back to his visitor. "It's no concern of yours."

"Really?" There's a smile playing across Conrad's lips, but thankfully Shouri cannot see it from his present position. "Look, I know what you suspect. I won't even try to deny it. I just wanted to make sure that you know that you are not being replaced."

Silence envelopes the room for several minutes. Then, Conrad bows curtly—Yuuri's still been having great difficulty breaking him of this habit—and exits the room. Shouri's gritting his teeth and gripping the mouse with twice as much pressure as necessary. His other hand is clenched into a fist in his lap. Propriety dictates that he say something at the other's retreat, but he knows that it is of no use now.

He lost this battle before Conrad even opened his mouth.

Collapsing onto his bed, he nonetheless has trouble relaxing his limbs. His body is aching for a fight, tired of being powerless, desperate to have some control over the situation and assert his rights. He is Shibuya Shouri, damnit—future Maou of Earth and elder brother to the current Maou of Shin Makoku.

But is that _really_ what it's all about? Is the right to protect Yuuri an exclusive one that must be earned?

As Shouri mulls the situation over in his mind again, he realizes that perhaps, just perhaps, Conrad is right. Maybe it isn't his place to feel threatened, and maybe he oughtn't attempt to turn it into a competition. After all, they both ultimately share the same goal, and love comes in many forms—some fleeting, others permanent. Romantic love is just one of them.

He isn't sure whether Conrad and Yuuri's relationship will endure. These days, it's proving difficult enough to sustain _any_ meaningful connection with another being. Of course, that isn't to say that their love might not outlast every other. But there is only one love that is certain.

A brother's love is forever.

It cannot be replaced.


End file.
